


Righting Wrongs

by Pirate_Jenna



Series: Leaving a Legacy [1]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post-Unwound Future, Unwound Future Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4698917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirate_Jenna/pseuds/Pirate_Jenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clive is doing his best to move on and fix his mistakes. But the question remains, can every mistake be fixed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Righting Wrongs

**Author's Note:**

> So, as seems to often be the case with the stories I wrote, I wrote this because this is the type of story I wanted to see, but it didn't exist. There's a quote somewhere by someone about if you can't find a certain story you want to read, you have to write, but I can't seem to find the quote. (If you can, please tell me what it is!) Anyway, I love the Professor Layton games, though I've only played through The Last Specter (urk, the 3DS). Unwound Future is by far the best one. I really love Clive, as do many people it would seem. However, most stories with him have him oddly shoehorned back into the Professor, Luke, and Flora's lives, often ignoring the fact that Luke moved away. So, here's my take on what would happen after Clive got out of prison. Please let me know what you think. I am hoping to turn this into a series of oneshots. So, if you're interested in more stories, please let me know. Now, on to the story. Enjoy!

Clive walked along, doing his best to ignore the looks or disgust and distaste thrown his way. The people walking past regarded him in the way you would regard a criminal. Of course, he was a criminal. Some people would look at him with horror. They would pull their children away from him, as if they were afraid he would leap forward and attack them. A few of the people would purposefully shove into him as they walked past, as if they were serving some justice by doing so.

Honestly, he'd gotten used to it. He hadn't been out of jail long, but he had already become accustomed to it. He didn't like it. But to a degree, he didn't blame them. He understood. That didn't mean it didn't hurt to see the disgust, dread, or fear in their eyes.

He clutched the leather strap on his shoulder, a subconscious action that provided him some comfort. As silly as it seemed, that satchel held his most prized possession, his notebook.

The only good thing to come out of the counseling he had been given as a part of his sentence was the notebook. After seeing several different psychologists, he'd finally gotten one who listened to him. After deciding that Clive was not insane, the doctor told him his problem was that he was holding in his emotions and allowing them to build up until they burst. He suggested that he try his hand at writing since his prior occupation had been journalism. He had given Clive the notebook to write in.

It had worked amazingly well. Not only did he enjoy having an outlet, but it helped keep him from going nuts having nothing to do but listen to the voices in his head.

Unfortunately, the man had only been brought in for the one session, as he was very busy, and Clive was forced to start the cycle again. But he had kept the journal. Though it mostly contained bits and pieces, none of which went together or really stood on their own, he was considering trying his hand at writing a novel.

After walking a ways, he arrived at his destination. Looking around, he felt a sad smile creep onto his face. He remembered visiting this park as a boy. And though it held some painful memories, he had felt the urge to visit it again. So here he was.

He wandered aimlessly through the park for a while. He still received the glares, but he noticed them less. He was absorbed in his thoughts and memories. It struck him to try and write down some of his memories. Though he wasn't sure he wanted to delve into them, he wondered if writing them down might help.

He started to look around for a quiet place he could sit and write. Most of the benches were right on the path. He was looking for something a bit more secluded. He spotted a bench set a ways back from the path beneath a tree. Unfortunately, it was occupied. He started to walk past, until he realized who was occupying the bench.

He paused. A part of him wanted to continue on his way. Another part wanted to walk over there. He stood there contemplating it for minute. In the end, his hunger for some pleasant human interaction urged him to give it shot. He made his way towards the bench. The boy on the bench didn't seem to notice him as he stared off into the distance.

Clive smirked and said, "Mind if I sit here?"

The boy, still not quite shaken from his stupor, shrugged and said, "I suppose."

Clive sat down and looked over at the boy. After a minute of him not moving, Clive said, "Care to talk?"

The boy didn't look up. Not seeming to yet realize he was talking with someone, he said absently "I've got nothing to say."

"Not even to your future self?" Clive teased.

Finally, the boy's head snapped up to look at him. He stared for a minute before saying, "Clive?"

Clive nodded to him, tipping a non-existent hat, "Luke."

Luke stared at him, clearly taking in his appearance. He still bore a striking resemblance to Luke. He had, however, abandoned his former wardrobe. He was now dressed in long brown trousers, a crisp white button-up shirt, a dark green vest, and brown tie. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows.

Clive took the moment to look over Luke. He had grown a good bit taller, though Clive couldn't tell quite how much as they were sitting down. He was honestly amused to see that Luke's wardrobe was slowly drifting in the direction of the costume Clive had put together. He still wore his blue cap. He had the same shorts, though he had abandoned his sweater for a blue blazer, along with a blue tie.

Finally, Luke spoke, "You look different."

Clive couldn't help it. He laughed. It felt good to laugh. He hadn't in so long. It wasn't that what Luke had said was funny; it simply was one of the last things he expected Luke to say to him after everything that had happened. And, he was a bit relieved that Luke didn't seem to be upset with him.

Luke slowly smiled. He turned back towards the park as he said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm a bit surprised that I'm glad to see you."

Clive smiled and leaned back, following Luke's gaze, "That's alright. I'm honestly just glad that you're still willing to talk with me."

Luke turned toward him, an eyebrow raised, "Why is that?"

Clive sighed, "As you may expect, I don't really get a warm welcome anywhere. Almost everyone seems to recognize me and treats me rather poorly because of it."

Luke seemed annoyed, "Well, that's terrible. They've no right to treat you that way."

Clive shrugged, "Honestly I prefer the rude people. The worst are the people who are afraid of me."

Luke gave him a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry, Clive."

Clive smirked before realizing what he was doing. He wasn't really sure why he was sharing this with Luke. Well, he was. He had grown close to Luke and the Professor, though he wouldn't have admitted it at the time. He was surprised that Luke was sitting there talking with him. He had lied and betrayed both him and the Professor. Yet, here he was, offering Clive comfort.

Feeling the need to try and right his wrongs, he said, "I want to apologize Luke, for everything that happened. I regret what I did, and I specifically regret what I did to you and the Professor."

Luke smiled, "I know you do, but thank you. And I forgive you." He paused, "So, what are you doing here anyway?"

Clive smiled, looking around the park, "I used to come here with my parents." He reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook, "I came over here to try and find somewhere quiet to write."

Luke looked down at the notebook, "I didn't know you wrote."

Clive shrugged, absently leafing through the book, "One of the psychologists I met with suggested I give it a try."

Luke nodded. Clive closed the book and looked up at Luke, "So, what are you doing here?"

Luke sighed, "Visiting the Professor."

Clive raised an eyebrow, "Visiting?"

Luke nodded, "Shortly after our, 'adventure', my family moved away." Luke sighed again, "The Professor and I still write letters, but I only get to come visit occasionally. We're leaving tomorrow."

"So why aren't you with him right now?"

"He's got a few classes right now. I came over here so I could have some time to think."

Clive nodded. Thinking it over, he figured that Luke was sixteen years old now. That meant he been away from his friend for about three years. He felt sorry for Luke. While he had been in jail for three years, he hadn't had any friends or family that he was separated from. Of course, it wasn't a picnic being jail, but nothing had really changed by the time he got out.

Seeing that Luke was somewhat upset, Clive felt the urge to do something to comfort him. Feeling a bit awkward, he put his arm around Luke. To his surprise, Luke actually leaned against him, "I just, I don't know…" he trailed off.

"It's tough being away from your mentor, isn't it?"

Luke nodded, "I don't mind it quite as much as I thought I would though."

"And that bothers you."

Luke nodded again, "I still want to see the Professor, but, I feel kind of bad that I'm not more upset about being away from him."

Clive took a good look at Luke, "Don't worry. You'll always be close. Trust me. I can tell." Luke looked up at him, a thankful smile on his face. "And who knows, the Professor does teach at the college. Maybe one day you can study under him."

A spark appeared in Luke's eye and his grin widened, "Thanks Clive. I appreciate it."

Clive smiled, "Sure thing." They sat there a bit longer, chatting about different things. Clive was rather surprised but grateful for the comradery that had managed to remain between them, despite the strain he had put on their relationship. It surprised him when he was able to identify the bond between them. He was looking at Luke like a younger brother, and Luke was looking at him like an older brother. It was a strange feeling, yet a very welcome one. What shocked Clive the most was when Luke told Clive he could come visit him if he wanted. He would be able to get away from the people who recognized him and have some time to relax. Even more surprising, Clive said he might take him up on the offer.

It had grown rather late; a few hours had slipped by. Luke said he needed to head back to the hotel he and his parents were staying at, and Clive offered to head back with him. Luke accepted the company gladly. On the way back, Luke inquired about Clive's writing.

At first, Clive was hesitant to share his writing with Luke. Though he was willing to discuss the fact that he did write, he wasn't sure he was ready to discuss the things he wrote. The things in the journal were a piece of him, a piece of his soul. But, for some reason, he felt that he could trust Luke with them. He told him about the stories he wrote, a few of them bearing some resemblance to the adventures he had had with Luke and Layton. The majority of them, however, where fantasies. Some had real people in them. Others, especially the recent ones, only contained characters. Another surprise came when Luke told him he should write a book, to which Clive responded that he had been considering it.

Clive inquired into Luke's hobbies. Luke told him he was beginning to look into being a veterinarian, seeing as how he got along with animals so well. Clive smiled at that thought. He could definitely see Luke as a vet.

The bus ride was shorter than expected, and they soon arrived at their destination. Luke gave Clive his address, encouraged him to write, and reminded him about his offer to come and visit. Clive assured him that he would write and consider his offer. Luke waved to him as he hurried off to the hotel.

Clive was surprised at how much better he felt after talking with Luke. He went into a small cafe, finding it a bit easier now to ignore the stares he received and the waitress's cold attitude.

After having a bit to eat, he decided it was time he paid someone else a visit. He asked the waitress for directions. Though she remained chilly, she did give him directions. He thanked her and left a tip before hurrying out the door.

He quickly made his way to the college. He didn't want to cut into whatever time Luke might have left with his mentor. He hoped to catch the Professor as he was leaving his class. With any luck, he might also see Flora.

He arrived at the campus, and not for the first time he almost wished he still wore a cap. At least it would help him hide his face. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. He did his best not to make eye-contact and hurried down the hallway.

He arrived at the Professor's office and was gratified to see that the light was on. He reached out to knock, but froze. Sure, Luke had accepted him, but that didn't mean the Professor or Flora would. However, he would never know otherwise, and the thought of having the Professor as someone he could turn to was too good to pass up. So, he reached out and knocked.

"Come in."

Clive opened the door. The Professor was seated at his desk with his back to the door. He hadn't turned around yet. Taking a deep breath, Clive said, "Hello again, Professor."

The Professor lifted his head and turned. His face was unreadable, "Hello Clive."

Clive smiled slightly, "I'm glad to see you, Professor. But before you say anything, I wanted to apologize for what I did. I do regret my actions." He paused to see if the Professor would respond. When he didn't, Clive continued, "I also wanted to thank you. I know you had a big hand in my sentence being reduced, and I thank you for that. I also wanted to thank you again for saving me, both times." Feeling there was nothing left to say and not seeing Flora, Clive turned to leave.

"Thank you, Clive. I appreciate you coming to apologize." Clive turned back to the Professor. "And you needn't worry; I've forgiven you."

Clive smiled, "Thank you, Professor." He paused, not sure whether he should ask or not, "Would you be willing to meet me for lunch this week?"

The Professor smiled, "I would be glad to, Clive." He glanced at what appeared to be an appointment book, "My class load is fairly light on Thursday. Why don't you stop by around noon."

Clive nodded, "That would be great. Thank you." He tipped his head, "I'll see you then, Professor"

"I look forward to it."

Clive turned and left the office. He had a strong feeling of satisfaction. He had atoned for his crimes, and he was working on righting his wrongs.


End file.
